Adventures in swimming
So the Crunch pool reopened today (or a couple days before)...yay! I had missed its bathwater warmth. It took a little vacation over the holidays, and then it was extended. But now it is back in use.
I tried blowing bubbles in the pool today while I swam, and though I didn't submerge my face entirely, I did dip my head and blow bubbles on the exhale. Progress. Of course, my mouth was stinging from all the chlorine that seeped in. But I enjoyed it anyway. After swimming, I relaxed in the hot tub, which felt really good, though I missed the friendly, gold-chain gay man and middle-aged photojournalist who are my usual hot tub companions. I guess they only go during the week.
We went to Candela with DG last night. I liked my salad special, which was arugula with orange vinaigrette, roasted beets (nestled at the bottom), and crispy vegetarian spring rolls, which I shared with the Others. (My friend Carpe and I always spell "others" with a capital O.)
The real highlight of the evening, though, was hot chocolate afterward. We went to Michel Cluizel, which you have to go through a loud, throbbing tapas bar to enter. I might have enjoyed that kind of thing in college, but it seemed like it was trying too hard and self-consciously trendy. The chocolate place, however, is perfect (except for fluorescent interrogation lights in their chocolate cases). The cocoa is liquid pleasure.
I tried blowing bubbles in the pool today while I swam, and though I didn't submerge my face entirely, I did dip my head and blow bubbles on the exhale. Progress. Of course, my mouth was stinging from all the chlorine that seeped in. But I enjoyed it anyway. After swimming, I relaxed in the hot tub, which felt really good, though I missed the friendly, gold-chain gay man and middle-aged photojournalist who are my usual hot tub companions. I guess they only go during the week.
We went to Candela with DG last night. I liked my salad special, which was arugula with orange vinaigrette, roasted beets (nestled at the bottom), and crispy vegetarian spring rolls, which I shared with the Others. (My friend Carpe and I always spell "others" with a capital O.)
The real highlight of the evening, though, was hot chocolate afterward. We went to Michel Cluizel, which you have to go through a loud, throbbing tapas bar to enter. I might have enjoyed that kind of thing in college, but it seemed like it was trying too hard and self-consciously trendy. The chocolate place, however, is perfect (except for fluorescent interrogation lights in their chocolate cases). The cocoa is liquid pleasure.
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